


face down

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tim’s head is against the bed, eyes closed and cheek pressed into the mattress so his face is turned towards the kitchen. His back is arched upwards, but everything past his waist is hidden by the door. Still, Roy’s mind has no problem imagining what the rest of him must look like, propped up on his knees with Jason’s large hands gripping his hips.--roy watches jason and tim, and he's really into it.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Roy Harper, Tim Drake/Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Comments: 18
Kudos: 307





	face down

**Author's Note:**

> jfc guys.... we're really in it now.... i just have no excuse for this. i know nothing about roy. i have no idea how this fits into canon (except that they're all older, in their twenties or so). i normally subscribe to the headcanon that tim is a prude. still, here we are. bon appetit i guess.

The kitchen still smells of bacon when someone knocks on the door of Roy and Jason’s apartment. They’re by the kitchen table, eating breakfast, and exchange a quick glance before Jason gets up. He’s not wearing a shirt, and doesn’t bother shoving the gun into the back of his pants. He just grabs it and brings it along, disappearing into the hallway.

While he’s out of sight, Roy listens. Usually it’s just kids looking for the guy who lived there before them. But just in case, Roy listens for anything that suggests he’s going to have to back Jason up. He recognises the sound of the door opening, then closing, followed by the click of a chain. An actual visitor, then? 

There’s a moment of silence, then Jason comes back. In tow he has Tim Drake, dressed in a blue button up shirt that makes him look like the guys from the University. All that’s missing is the name tag around his neck and a take away coffee. 

“Hey,” Roy says, raising an eyebrow. It isn’t the first time Tim is here. For months, him and Jason have been dancing around each other. Definitely seeing each other, but refusing to acknowledge it. Tim gives him a hesitant smile, like it isn’t obvious that he was hoping Jason would be alone. 

“You want coffee or something?” Jason puts the gun on the counter and grabs the coffee pot that still holds about half a cup. When Tim shakes his head, Jason puts it back so fast it almost shatters, and grabs the gun in the same motion. “Great,” he says and takes Tim by the hand, pulling him into the bedroom. “See you later Roy, take a lap or something.”

“I live here too, you know,” Roy calls out after him, but there is no answer. 

The door doesn’t quite close behind them. Through the crack Roy can see the very edge of Jason’s bed where covers are bundled up in a messy pile.

Usually there is a constant flow of noise outside, leaking into the apartment at every hour of the day. Today, the distant roar of an engine and rain hitting the kitchen window is far from enough to drench out the sounds coming from the bedroom. 

“That’s right, baby.” Jason’s voice carries as well as if they had been in the same room. He isn’t even trying to keep it down, because he’s an inconsiderate asshole. Roy stabs a piece of bacon with his fork, but it’s so crisp that it breaks in two.

“Fuck.” Jason again. Moaning. A million images flash before Roy’s eyes, each of them a suggestion as to what Tim could be doing to warrant a sound like that. One of them is straight from a memory of walking in on them. Tim, leaned over the kitchen table with his arms gripping the edges; Jason, fucking him with such erratic motions that the entire table shakes. (Roy, swearing and shutting himself in his own room, spending the rest of the night refusing to touch himself no matter how turned on the sight had made him.)

Of course, Tim can’t be bent over the kitchen table now, since that’s where Roy’s plate of increasingly uninteresting breakfast is. Perhaps over the edge of the bed, then. But the bed is so old and worn, Roy reminds himself, as much as bumping against it makes the springs squeal.

He tries to push the images aside, even when his mind wants nothing more than to dwell on them. Jason fucking Tim against the wall, it suggests, or perhaps Jason fucking Tim on the floor. When he puts his fork down on the edge of the plate, all appetite lost, he’s presented with the image of Tim taking Jason in his mouth, whining around something that stretches his jaw so much he can’t speak.

Roy buries his face in his hands. “One. Two. Three,” he mumbles under his breath. He should get out; it’s fucked up enough that he’s even sitting there. “Four. Five.” 

There is a jarring, unmistakable squeal, telling Roy that something heavy just dropped onto the bed. Excitement jolts in the bottom of his stomach and he opens his eyes, peeking through his fingers.

Through the crack of the bedroom door he sees Tim. Not all of him, but more than enough to take his breath away. 

Tim’s head is resting against the bed, eyes closed and cheek pressed into the mattress so his face is turned towards the kitchen. His back is arched upwards, but everything past his waist is hidden by the door. Still, Roy’s mind has no problem imagining what the rest of him must look like, propped up on his knees with Jason’s large hands gripping his hips. 

He has to leave. At any moment Tim could open his eyes, and the first thing in his line of sight would be Roy. The thought of that, as filthy as it is, shoots straight from Roy’s head to where warm excitement is building between his legs. 

“More.” Tim isn’t as loud as Jason’s, and for some reason that makes hearing him all the better. His voice is cracked, nothing like the steady, cocky way he speaks whenever Roy comes across him in uniform. 

While there are some things about Jason that will never make sense, why he chooses to run with Tim is something Roy understands completely. Hell, if their places were swapped he would do the same. And that thought, he realises, is a mistake. If he was turned on before, it’s nothing compared with the aching hardness that presses against his jeans at the mere possibility of imagining himself where Jason is now. He lowers his hands and flexes his fingers, trying to think of something other than what it might feel to dig them into Tim’s narrow hips. 

“Another one? So greedy,” Jason says, and Roy can’t help but notice the way Tim’s face tenses for just a moment before his mouth opens. There is a breathy moan, sounding just like Roy has always imagined it would. Although of course, in those constructed scenarios it isn’t just Jason drawing them from Tim’s mouth, but himself as well. 

At that moment, just as Roy allows himself to get lost in the fantasy, Tim opens his eyes. Not entirely; they are still half lidded and somewhat hazy with pleasure, but more enough for him to see straight through the crack and find Roy. 

Roy freezes. Tim’s eyes grow wider. There is an awful moment where the only thing Roy’s useless brain can think of is how a strand of Tim’s dark hair is caught in the corner of his mouth. He waits for Tim to shout at him to get out, or tell Jason to shut the fucking door. 

But nothing happens.

Instead Tim relaxes until his eyes are back in the state of being just barely open. His mouth opens just a little more, and he lets out another moan, even louder than the last. 

“You like that? Three fingers is nothing compared to what you’re gettin’ soon.” Jason is hoarse with excitement, following his words with a loud slap of skin against skin. 

Roy looks down on his hand and curls three fingers, just to see what they look like pressed together. He swallows. 

“I- ah, I want it now.” Roy can’t help but look up from his hand, and finds Tim’s eyes still locked on him. “Fuck me. _P_ _lease_.” Even though Roy knows that it is not meant for him, but rather for the man who is already three fingers deep inside of Tim, it’s impossible not to be pulled along into pretending. 

His hand falls into his lap. With trembling fingers he unbuttons his jeans and almost gasps out loud at the relief it gives him. Before him, Tim’s long arms are stretched towards the edge of the bed, clutching the covers. Roy presses his palm against himself, and swears he won’t do anything else. 

But then Jason groans, and Tim’s eyes roll back as his body moves a little closer to the edge, as if being pushed from behind. And so Roy _knows_ that what is buried deep inside of Tim isn’t just fingers anymore. 

When Tim’s eyes find their focus again, he’s bouncing back and forth, mouth falling a little bit more open with each motion forward.

Jason is cursing. He is so loud in his pleasure that Roy doubts he could have escaped it even if he had been in his own room, door closed and lying on his bed with his hand shoved down his jeans. 

He grabs himself through the cotton fabric of his underwear. Finally being able to watch exactly how Tim looks when Jason is having his way with him makes his hand move on its own. There is less begging than in his fantasies, where Tim is always asking to have things done to him. Instead there is a power to the way Tim emits those short noises of pleasure that convinces Roy that Tim rarely has to ask for anything. 

“You like this?” Jason pants. He must be close now, because Tim’s body is moving increasingly erratic. “You do, I know you do, you love my-” Jason interrupts himself with a loud, drawn out groan. 

Roy’s lips are so dry. His legs are trembling beneath his own touch. Tim is still watching him, hair standing on end and torso glistening with sweat. Just the thought that in this very moment Jason is coming inside of him almost makes Roy come as well. 

“Fuck. Baby, look at you.” There is pride in Jason’s voice. “Love you like this,” he says, and Roy swears Tim winks. In the next moment, Tim is flipped around. With his back against the bed, he’s looking up at Jason rather than Roy, and the shame does not wait. 

What the fuck is wrong with him? Roy gets up as quietly as he can and hurries out of the kitchen. Moving is uncomfortable, and he doesn’t relax until he is able to shut and lock the bathroom door behind himself. 

There, he runs the shower and prays that it will drench the sounds he can’t stop himself from letting out when he's finally able to touch himself properly. Just as he picks up the pace to the memory of Tim’s expression as Jason must have slid into him, he hears something.

“Roy!” He freezes. It’s Jason, calling out into the apartment. “Roy?! Where the fuck are you?” 

So this is how he dies. As if eyeing a bat isn’t enough of a death wish, it had to be the one currently seeing Jason Todd, who isn’t exactly known for his mellow temper. Roy considers climbing out through the window above the toilet, but it’s so small even his head won’t fit through it. 

Maybe he can just deny it. He lives there too, after all, and they were the ones who didn’t even bother shutting the door.

“Yeah?! What is it?” he calls back, but winces at how not-casual his voice sounds.

“Get your ass in here!” Even though that is the last thing Roy wants to do, Jason doesn’t leave much room for negotiation. So Roy looks down, mouths _fuck_ , and pulls his pants back up. At least the horror makes him soften a little, so it isn’t quite as uncomfortable to walk from the bathroom and through the kitchen as it was a minute ago. 

He stops by the bedroom door, before he’s able to actually look into the room and says, “what is it? I’m kinda busy, y’know.”

“Yeah, right, like fuck you are. Now get in here or I’ll drag you here myself.” 

So Roy does. He nudges the door so it slides open all the way and takes the final step to place himself in the opening. 

He isn’t sure what he expects to see, besides the barrel of Jason’s gun, but it isn’t the two of them in bed. Tim is back on his knees, back arching just as perfectly as he was minutes ago. This time all of him is visible, from the protruding hip bones to his muscular thighs. Jason is pressed against his back, looking large and powerful with one reaching around Tim’s thigh to stroke him. 

Both of them are looking at Roy. Tim, struggling to focus with pleasure painted over his features, and Jason, grinning. 

“There he is,” Jason says, leaning over Tim so his mouth is almost pressed against his ear, all the while without breaking eye contact with Roy. “‘s that what you wanted? ‘s this what got you so worked up?” There is an unmistakable whine of agreement as Tim’s cheeks redden. “God, Roy, you should have been here. Almost came again, just from hearing him say it.” Jason laughs, and the hardness in Roy’s jeans makes itself reminded. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just swallows.

“So?” Jason leans back, snaking his arm out from below Tim and placing both hands on Tim’s thighs, pulling them apart. “What do you say? You want my sloppy seconds?” 

From where he stands, Roy can’t see what Jason sees. But he sees Tim, gasping and grasping the covers when Jason slides two fingers inside. “Might be a bit messy, but I’m sure you don’t mind.” 

Every trace of self preservation leaves Roy in the same moment Jason starts fucking Tim with his fingers. The only thing that remains is the _want_ , making his insides burn. 

“Fuck it,” he says, and pulls down his pants and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the floor before his brain is able to catch up with his body. It makes Jason laugh again, the sound mixing with Tim’s moans.

“Attaboy.” Jason pulls his fingers out, and Tim’s hips follow, like he is eager to be filled again. When Roy climbs onto the bed Jason moves aside, but not before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a hard, sloppy kiss. “Fair’s fair, right?” Jason says as he pulls away. 

They move again, so Roy is in Jason’s place, perfectly lined up with Tim, and Jason is behind him running his hands along Roy’s hips.

Tim’s spine runs like a valley before him, and Roy puts one hand at the base of it for balance. Along the insides of Tim’s thighs runs something white and sticky, a reminder that someone has already been there. 

“Sorry.” Jason’s voice is a mere whisper, warm breaths and lips brushing against Roy’s ear. “If I knew we’d be sharing, I’d have waited.” Then the grip on Roy’s hips hardens, and Jason’s firm hand guides him forward. 

Tim is sleek and warm, taking all of Roy so easily. The only thing more unreal than the feeling of his hips pressing against Tim, buried to the root, is the sound Tim makes when he begins to move. At first it’s all Jason, pulling Roy back against his chest, then pushing him forth again. All Roy does is stare, watching himself slide in and out of Tim. 

Then the sight makes him greedy, in the way that finally having something only births more want. He splays one hand over Tim’s back and leans forward so the other can grab him by the hair. It’s so long, tangling itself between his fingers in a perfectly firm grip. 

“Oh, he loves that,” Jason says behind him. “Don’t you, babe?” 

“Fuck,” is all Tim says when Roy gives his head a light yank, so his face isn’t pressed against the sheets anymore. It’s all too much, and Roy lets go, stretching his back so he can pick up the pace. 

Jason’s chin is resting on his shoulder, watching every motion, and Roy cannot be imagining the way his breathing deepens. With each thrust forward, Roy pushes Tim deeper into the bed. Each time he pulls back, until he’s almost all the way out, his backside presses against Jason and the limpness between his legs. 

“Fucking hell, Roy,” Jason isn’t whispering anymore, rather his chest rumbles against Roy’s back when he speaks. One of his hands slides off Roy’s hip and up between his thighs, so that his finger angles itself perfectly teasing. “Next time,” he says, and drags his warm tongue along Roy’s neck. “I swear, you won’t even be able to walk when I’m done.” 

Tim lets out a moan, slightly higher in pitch. The way he tightens around Roy, and how his knuckles whiten in their grip of the covers, send another wave of pleasure through Roy. 

“You should come in him too,” Jason says, and he sounds at once even closer than before, but impossibly far away at the same time.

All Roy can think about is that Tim must have heard him say that too, and his hips jerk. In the moment of his orgasm, he allows himself to fuck Tim just as hard as he has always wanted. 

“Fuck, yes, give it to him, jesus fuck.” Jason’s voice in his ear, urging him on as he fills Tim anew. 

Then Jason’s arm reaches around Roy and grabs Tim, whose moans turn into shouts under his touch. It’s so warm and wet, Jason’s chest when he presses tighter against Roy’s back, and it ensures that every inch of Roy stays buried in Tim. Even in his post-orgasm bliss, so content that he could fall asleep on his knees like this, Roy does not miss the way Tim presses back against him while he comes. It is like the only thing that can bring him through that orgasm is Roy, and like losing even an inch of him is going to leave Tim empty and unsatisfied. 

Tim’s firm stance turns to jelly, and when Roy lets his hips go he collapses on the bed. He rolls over on his back and throws an arm over his face, still breathing heavily. In the corner of his mouth, there is a crooked thing that reminds Roy of a smile.

Roy doesn’t know if he should say anything. _Thank you,_ maybe? Or, _what the fuck was that?_ But before he’s able to find the words Jason jumps off the bed and stretches, showing off all of his bulky body. 

“Fuck yeah,” Jason says, with a grin that’s so wide it almost reaches from ear to ear. “That was- fuck, just hot as hell, right?” 

“Yeah, it was.” Tim laughs, redness peeking out beneath where his arm hides his eyes. 

Roy looks at them. Traces each of their perfect figures with his eyes. Then he laughs as well, because relief makes everything seem funny.

**Author's Note:**

> i told myself i wouldnt write batfic ever again but i guess sometimes the ot3 is just too powerful....


End file.
